Morgue Files
by SwordStitcher
Summary: Bernie Lynch, the socially awkward Scot with a debilitating crush on a certain forensic technician in the GCPD. Rarely seen, always sought because who knows the gossip of Gotham better than those who work in it's morgue?
1. Zombie - Pilot

Zombie/Pilot

Another day, another body.

'Hello Mr Pepper! Mah name is Bernie. Bernie Lynch.' The lilting Scot smiled down at the bullet-ridden body on the stainless steel gurney. Her glasses flashed as she marked condition and took inventory of the outer wounds.

Another day, another dead body. Oh well, in a city the size of Gotham it really wasn't that surprising. She gave the master-file a quick flip and noticed "Shot by Detective Bullock - Wanted in connection to the Thomas/Martha Wayne murder" and glanced down at the corpse. She'd seen those bodies earlier in the week but the head pathologist had refused to allow anyone else to do the autopsies. They were hot potatoes. Any pathologist who screwed up those autopsies would soon know the limit of their life but no guts - no glory and pathologists saw an awful lot of guts in their line of work.

'Noo, weren't you a silly boy?' She mused. Thomas and Martha Wayne were two of the city's most beloved philanthropists. Funny, she was more comfortable speaking to the dead than she was to the living. Then again, the dead never mocked her relentlessly for her foreign accent. Ah the perks of morgue work.

She checked the boxes for homicide and open case before she laid the clipboard on his chest and eased him over to the table.

Once she'd transferred the body onto the stainless steel and checked the camera and video she returned to the clipboard and scribbled some observations of the body before procedure began. The cloying smell of garbage filled the air, it was coming from his clothes. Her nose - complete with freckles - wrinkled. What had he done, rolled around in a dumpster? She hated dumpster bodies, even more than the crispers.

'Bernice?'

She paused and glanced up over her glasses as she scribbled. Through her mass of thick black hair, she noted the head pathologist - Doctor Martin Stagg, in the doorway and felt her heart sink. 'Yes, Doctor Stagg?' He motioned her over. and she nervously approached. 'Is there something wrong?'

He said nothing to her but plucked her file from her fingers and read. 'Bernice, you've been warned about this kind of thing.'

'B-but sir-' She could feel her face heating up in embarrassment.

'You are not a pathologist.' He studied her handiwork intently as she mumbled and umm-ed her way through an explanation.

'Ah only have to pass my exams...Need the experience,' She looked to the floor bashfully, her eyes focused on the tartan pattern of her shoes.

He unclipped her detailed and filled in sheet - the one she was going to have Doctor Santangelo look over and sign, he didn't have to do much more than double-check her work - and tore it down the middle. She gasped, as though wounded. 'But you are not a pathologist yet, Bernice.'

It was exactly the kind of petty bureaucracy that came from a place like this. It took quite a lot in her not to cry.

'This is your last warning, do you understand?'

'Yes Doctor Stagg.'

'You need to learn when to follow procedure. I can't keep-' He paused and looked up at the sound of the outer doors and the bell on reception being rang feverishly.

'Oh what...? Visitors now?' Stagg threw his arms, complete with her clipboard in the air. 'Where the hell is Christine?'

'Ah dunno Doctor Stagg,'

'We are not done discussing this , Bernice.' He warned before he handed her two evidence bags, each containing a bullet. 'But forensics want these. I assume I can trust you with this? You won't try and do their job for them too, will you?'

She turned crimson. 'No, Doctor Stagg.'

* * *

><p>Most people knew her as Bernie, the morgue tech. The morgue errand girl would be a better description. Still, there were some perks to the job. She generally knew all the gossip first, she was a dab hand with tweezers and she saw the most interesting people - both on and off the slab. As she danced through the crowded hall full of police and criminals, several turned to jeer her way - most were cops and most centered around one particular thing.<p>

'Hey Bernie, where's your boyfriend?' She stalled and turned to look at the catcall. Montoya and her partner, Allen were descending on her. Cops around them were patently ignoring their presence, but it didn't take a genius to know they were listening to every word that was being said.

'Ah don't know who yer referring to.' She replied and went pink again.

'Sure you do. About this big? Dark hair? Skinny as a rake? Wears those stupid glasses and asks the most annoying-'

'He means Nygma.' Montoya cut across. 'Those the bullets from the Pepper stiff?'

She bristled slightly. Disrespect for the dead was half of Gotham's problems. The other half was usually stirred up by these two on Major Crimes when they went looking for a mobster and then someone ended up on the table. 'Yeah?' She wavered.

'We can take them to Nygma for you. Save you the trip.' Allen used his full height to his advantage. Being almost six foot and bearing down on a woman barely topping five foot four, it was intimidating.

'Ah wish ah could help,' She stammered and tried to back away. 'Bu' ah promised ah'd personally deliver them, Ye ken?' Her accent always became slightly thicker when she was nervous or afraid.

'Come on, Bernie. Help us out here.'

'Ah'm afraid ah cannit. Wish ah could.' She sidled up the stairs towards forensics.

'Bernie-' Allen replied, a note of threat in his voice until Montoya laid a hand on his shoulder.

'Let it go, Crispin.' Montoya sighed. 'She's just doing her job.' Allen looked at her incredulously and sagged.

She took the opportunity to bolt and hand over the evidence before someone else accosted her for it, like Bullock.

'What can travel around the world while staying in a corner?' Of course, he greets her with a riddle.

'Ah dunno, Edward.' She replied softly as she lay down the packets. The forensics office is perhaps the smallest and most put upon of the entire area. It's littered with papers, microscopes and helplessly overburdened technicians. Edward Nygma was perhaps her favourite of all of them. He was awkward and enthusiastic and very, very smart.

'The answer is a stamp, of course!' He smiled up at her and she fought the urge to blush.

Of course, he was completely oblivious to the teasing going on downstairs and she hadn't found the incentive to screw up her courage and tell him. Especially when she couldn't answer a single riddle.

'Ah shoulda guessed.' She replied and tapped the soft plastic. 'Tell me again why yer too scared to come and pick these up yerself?'

'Scared?' He looked up at her. 'I'm not scared.'

'Sure yer not Edward.' Denial. Pure and simple. There were stories - humiliating, mostly - of Edward's attempts to dodge the Gotham Municipal Morgue.

He went slightly red, almost the same shade as her in fact and tried to pretend to squint at something in a microscope. 'Thank you for bringing them to me.'

'Nae problem. It gets me out of the morgue.' She hesitated. 'Yer may want to watch yer back tho.'

He frowned into his eyepiece and then up at her. 'Why?'

'Montoya and Allen're sniffin' about fer a case. Offered to bring the bullets ter you for me.' Best to warn him now, really. She had no doubt they'd try to wheedle what they could from him.

'_Crosspoint Piggy Gold Hug_,' * He growled.

'Tha's what ah said.' She nodded. It got a smirk out of him and sent her stomach writhing. 'Anyway, ah'd best get back.'

'Thank you for the warning. _Authenticate Holiday Slug_.' **

'Are yer doin' anagram under yer breath again?'

'Yes.'

Intelligent, but very wierd.

* * *

><p>She really didn't like Montoya and Allen. They were the precinct's golden duo and god help you if you had a case - or evidence - they wanted. God help Edward, they seemed interested in this evidence. But it was no longer her problem. She could go back to her morgue and wait for the next body. Speaking of bodies - she pushed into the building and easily heard Detective Bullock's voice hunting for just that.<p>

'You're telling me you've had no cases of unknown floater this week?'

'Not yet, detective Bullock.' Christine the over-primped and patently bored receptionist sighed.

'You _sure_?!'

'Detective,' Christine's tone became glacial. 'If there was a floater pulled from the river, trust me - you'd smell him.'

There was the sound of shoes squeaking against the over-waxed floor and a tension-filled grunt of annoyance.

'What's with the interest in floaters?' Christine muttered petulantly at his anger.

'Missing person, last seen by the docks. C'mon Christine you know how it works.'

Know how it...? He must be talking about the lines of inquiry. It didn't much deductive reasoning if his missing person was last seen near the docks.

'What's his name?' Christine sighed.

'Cobblepot. Oswald.'

'Is that Cobblepot with a double P?'

'The fuck'm I meant to know, Christine? God.' There was the dull slap of hand on wood and a very angry growl of 'When you find one, call me.'

He moved past her as he left, looking harassed.

Cobblepot?

* * *

><p>* Stupid glory-hugging cops<p>

** As though I needed it.


	2. Balloon Man - Homeless veterans

The forensics department was just as it had been the last time she'd seen it. Small space, lots of paper and overworked staff running back and forth between desks and cases. Harried even further by the investigating cops leaning on them hard to make _their_ case a priority. You'd need to be superhuman to work through the backlog of cases that came through. She thought it was bad at the morgue - it was worse here. Someone hurried past her, nearly knocking her glasses from her face as he jogged a hatchet across the cluttered floor.

It was a wonder none of them had cracked, all they'd have to do is reach out. There were plenty of knives, hatchets, guns - you name it, someone had assaulted someone else with it. She knew that. She'd even heard of someone being beaten to death with a plastic phallus. That had been one hell of an awkward workday and just thinking about it made her blush. Come to think of it, it wasn't that difficult. Some cops made a sport out of it.

She found him at a station, one of the few calm and collected people carefully going about his job. Studying a bat under a magnifying glass. As she watched, he plucked a hair from the grip of the thing and transferred it to a bag.

'What occurs once in every minute, twice in every moment, yet never in a thousand years?' He asked.

She paused to first consider how the hell he knew she was there. 'Tha's a tough one.' She commented. 'How do yer know I'm here?'

'You wear a lot of perfume. The answer is the letter M.'

She sniffed her labcoat surreptitiously. She didn't wear perfume at work, who-? Christine. She'd been complaining about the homeless veteran corpse stinking up the place worse than a floater and sprayed about that expensive waste of-

'It's nice.' He commented.

She felt the blood rush as her face heated up. What was Christine using again? Chanel? She had to find a stockist during lunch. 'Ah have some more evidence fer you.' She muttered quickly to detract from her rapidly warming face.

'Oh?' He turned to take the packets from her. 'What case are these?'

'Th' homeless veteran case.' She replied.

He arched a brow, as though disbelieving that one homeless soldier's murder would be getting so much attention when there'd been a hundred more just last year that were still waiting to be looked at properly. Why the early pass?

'Detective Gordon thinks this is connected to th' missin' persons.' She answered his unasked question.

'And he's looking for a definite link.' He studied the packets for some time and smiled as he signed for custody of evidence and took them. 'I'll see what I can do, but we're juggling a lot of cases at the moment,'

She'd noticed. 'Well, he's not th' only one bein' juggled.' Bernie replied. 'Unsolved murder of some poor bastard tha' had tha' snot beaten outta him somethin' fierce got put on the backburner fer this. Wus so bad it looked like he had whiplash.'

'What killed him?' Edward asked curiously and turned to look at her.

'Perforated lungs we think. Yer ribs're meant to protect yer lungs but they're not always yer lungs friends, ye ken?' She smiled sadly. 'We don't exactly need this either, what with the mayor an' all his promises.' She could feel her accent getting thicker just because he was flustering her. Goddamn how could he not tell? Practically the whole duty-room knew she had the biggest, geekiest crush on Edward Nygma and he was completely oblivious to it.

'Over the homeless kidnappings?'

'Tha kiddie kidnappin' case. Aye, the mayor's been puttin' pressure everywhere.' Bernie sniffed. 'Even on the morgue. He got pushed to tha' side so Santangelo an' Stagg could focus on tha' dead veteran. Ah'm afraid if cases keep jugglin' like this, the poor wee thing's gonna get missed but naeone will listen. '

'Why don't you perform the autopsy then, Bernie?' He asked and speared her with a look that sent her writhing. Damn she had it bad, didn't she? How could he not notice that she had the biggest damn crush on him on earth? At the Christmas party she'd spent far, far more than the obligatory ten dollars and she wasn't even including bribing some hapless call handler to even get him for her secret Santa.

Her cheeks, already pink, darkened somewhat and she stammered for an excuse. Several trotted onto her tongue. 'Ah cannit...Wish ah could. Ah'm not a pathologist an' even if ah were, Ah'm not allowed to touch homicides for at least six month and tha' teuchter bastard Doctor Stagg put me on notice. If ah screw up again, ah'm fired.' She finished bitterly.

'That's a stupid rule. You're clearly capable enough.' He commented.

Well wasn't he full of compliments today? It made it hard for her to be any kind of professional around him. She managed to get her mouth working long enough to ask 'An' what've yer done today?'

'Bullock's missing persons case and coincidentally, the dead waiter.' He smiled. 'Not everyone forgot you know.'

'Really?' That was a relief. It was bad enough with gangbangers and mobsters in Gotham, it was nice to know someone would go back to the "Lesser" crimes.

'It was the missing persons I've had most progress with. My results pointed them in the right direction.' Edward smirked proudly and told her of the Arkham link and the very few stockists. 'Using a drug that's in limited supply is stupid and it got them caught.'

'Yer think?' Bernie shuddered. 'Poison pins and kiddies. Ah hate seein' kiddies in the morgue.'

'Why? They have just as much statistical chance of ending up there as everyone else.' He muttered. Excellent point, Sherlock. Unfortunately, in a place like Gotham, they absolutely were. She saw more battered babies and strangled little boys and girls than she'd like to admit.

'So, how would yer do it diff'rent?' Bernie wondered as she leaned against his desk.

'Well I would use a generic drug for starters,' He replied. 'Rohypnol perhaps.' He looked thoughtful and highly adorable as he seriously considered it.

'Tha' date rape drug?'

'Yep!' And he gave one of his 'I know better than you' smirks. 'Want to know why?'

'Easily accessible, almost the same effects and much less suspicious ter use?' She guessed.

'You would know that, working in a morgue.' He mocked lightly with a smile.

Job done - contents delivered - she could go back to the morgue and very casually interrogate Christine about her perfume choices.

'Hey Bernie.' Allen had come out of nowhere and blocked her path. 'I got a question for you.'

Of all the- He was practically looming over her - again.

'Ah- ah'm kinda busy, mebbe another time?' She stuttered. She didn't want to do this, didn't want to talk to him, he couldn't make her talk!

'Have you had any unidentified corpses lately? Short, hooked nose, looks like a penguin?'

Unidentified-? She flashed onto the scene just days ago of Bullock asking Christine the same thing. Why were they interested in some specific but unfound corpse? What had Bullock said his name was?

'C'mon Bernie.' He wheedled.

'Why dinnit you ask the homicide detectives?' She mumbled. 'Bullock an' Gordon would probably be more than happy ter help-'

'No. I'm asking you.' He replied harshly.

So, he didn't want Bullock or Gordon to know he was interested. Why? Come to that, why was it her business?

'Ah cannit- Ah dunno-' She shrunk back as he moved closer, like a predator.

Thankfully Montoya appeared to leash him. 'Crispin. I've got the address.'

He paused and nodded to her before he turned back to Bernie. 'You'll keep an eye out, won't you, Bern?'

An unfamiliar anger brewed. Only her friends called her Bern. He smiled at her, like a shark and turned to follow his partner.

Everyone was looking for Oswald Cobblepot.

* * *

><p><em>AN: The first chapter was abrupt, wasn't it? Anyway, say hello to Bernice Constance Lynch. Bernie to everyone but Bern only to her friends. I'll be updating every **Sunday** with a chapter on the previous week's episode because what better way to settle into a character?_

_ Flying in the face of my rule about answering reviews (seriously I usually forget to thank the people who take the time to write reviews) I'll start answering!_

_**Bat-teen28:** She will forever be adorably socially awkward around Edward and Edward will be completely oblivious because: Cute. _

_**The Cowgirl Bookworm:** Thank you very much! I've had plenty of practice at writing him! _

_**Kira Tsumi:** Glad to hear it! Hopefully, you enjoy the second chapter as much as the first. _

_**Scribblescribblescribble:** You know me far too well by half!_

_**CeliaSingsSongs:** I'm pleased you feel her realistic. I can get particularly fussy about that. _


	3. Fieldwork - Balloon Man

_Episode 3 - Field Work/Balloon Man_

It wasn't often she got to go out on field work, but Bernie treasured the experience. Many assumed that because of her almost chronic social anxiety and perennial shyness that she would loathe anything to do with the public but she savoured everything about it, including the sometimes less than fragrant conditions of the body or it's surroundings.

The morgue van was reversing into the crime scene when, with a sharp, piercing cry, Bullock appeared. 'Congratulations, you hit a dog.'

'Sorry, detective.' Her not really apologetic driver replied as Bullock, red faced and unhappy circled his door.

'You'd better be more than sorry about being an hour late!'

'Hey man, we were over the other end of the city!'

'Doing what?!'

'Dishwasher murder in the ghetto. What else?'

Bullock grumbled. 'Just get in there and scrape our stiffs off the floor, will you?!'

The Crime Scene technicians, including Edward no doubt, had been by and marked, bagged and tagged everything worth noting. The crowd had lost interest in the scene some time ago. After all, a pair of bodies in Gotham was hardly new or exciting. The fact it was a cop and the latest kill of the elusive _Balloon Man_ as the papers had dubbed him meant more hangers on than usual, but Bernie could ignore them in favour of the man prowling around the scene.

'Bernie!' Bullock yelled before her tiny little legs had managed to bridge the gap between the van and the pavement. 'Am I glad it's you!'

_Uh-oh._

* * *

><p>'Ye tryin' to tell me tha' th' poor sod landed on her?'<p>

They stood to the side of the sheet that covered a tangled mass that may or may not have been corpses as Bullock asked a massive and possibly dangerous favour of his favourite diminutive technician.

'Yes, yes I am Bernie now can you _please_ tell me what killed him?'

'Ah'm no' a pathologist, Detective.' She mumbled. 'Why don't you ask Doctor Stagg?'

'Because, Stagg is being an obstructive asshole,' Bullock commented. '_"wait until a full autopsy"_ my ass,'

'Buh ah'm not certified to give you-'

'Bernie,' He growled.

'Fine! Fine. Anythin' ah say is strictly between us.' She warned. Bullock mimed shooing her to the body. Another cop yanked the sheet off the tangled mass and she started on the one at the top whose leg was wrapped around a thin, durable wire. 'Noo, lemme see; lips tinted blue, eyes bloodshot an' vessels burst - Ah'd hazard a guess tha' he's suffered hypoxia. Poor boy.'

'In _English_ Bernie!' He snapped at her.

'He couldnae breathe, passed oot and died. Tha' English enough for ye? Ye say he wus in the stratosphere? Tha' would do it.'

'Bernice,' He threatened. 'That is..._was_ a popular cop you're talking about.'

She recoiled from the smoldering anger that was radiating off him and felt her face heat up. It was obviously not a good day to point out the bloody obvious. 'You asked, Detective.' She mumbled and rolled him to look at what had cushioned his fall. 'Jesus Christ in a handbasket,' She gulped.

'That's what we said,' Gordon nodded as he strolled up, no doubt from a quick canvass of the area. It was hard to think of him off in one corner of the scene having a good old puke, despite his new status on the force. Hadn't the other female techs once said he'd been in the army? Bullock threw him a disbelieving look and then turned back to watch as her helpful driver hauled Cranston from atop victim number two to allow her to get a better look.

'So how the hell did _she_ die?' Bullock wondered as they stared at the woman that had cushioned the corpse of Cranston.

'The woman or the dog?' Her driver asked unsympathetically.

'The woman, definitely the woman,' He deadpanned.

'What happened to the dog?!' Gordon glanced around.

'The yappy little bastard took on the coroners van. There's some irony for you.' Bullock smiled grimly.

'Th' dog's no' deid, jus' stunned.' Bernie interjected and tilted the woman's head gently. She frowned as she listened. 'Broken neck.'

'How can you be sure?' Bullock demanded suspiciously.

All fingers and thumbs accounted for, teeth are all there too. Good, she won't have to go scrabbling through the gutter for itty bitty bits of people. Doctor Stagg can get quite severe about body recovery and she did not want to have another run in with him. They'd held together surprisingly well for a jaunt into the stratosphere and a terminal velocity impact. She expected something...splashier. 'Ye ever cracked your knuckles or had a bag'o walnuts before?'

'Yeah,' Gordon watched impassively. 'What about it?'

'Tha's what her neck sounds like,' She deadpanned.

'Sorry I asked,' Bullock muttered and looked away. 'Can we get this cleared up? Holding up a goddamn road for this.'

'What took you so long, anyway?' Gordon asked.

'Some nobody got himself shanked in the ghetto, Now isn't that a shame?' Bullock bantered back. Typical cops trying to maintain their macho air as they glanced every now and then at Bernie menouvering the woman's neck which reacted as though it were boneless. To be fair - it practically was. Just by feeling it she could tell that the C-2 to C-5 bones were going to be no bigger than pennies at the very most. She must've been looking straight up when the corpse landed on her.

Poor sod.

Behind her, Gordon and Bullock were arguing about the Balloon Man and his choice in targets. They really did bicker like an old married couple. She wondered what Edward would think of Balloon Man. He'd probably marvel at the ingenious way that he'd rigged his operation and the targets. Edward had noted the widespread corruption and bribery going on. You were either working for the mob or took far too much joy in beating them to a bloody pulp.

With people like Lieutenant Cranston, Bernie could see where he was coming from. She'd only ever had a run in once with the lieutenant and took every pain imaginable to avoid a second. He was an overbearing monster of a cop who seemed to think - right down to his very soul - that everyone was guilty of something, you just needed to beat it out of them. Bullock probably took lessons from him. Still, she was sad at his death. The death of any police officer was terrible and provoked anger and outrage. That seemed to be what they were arguing about.

But it wasn't any of her business. What was her business was the poor woman he'd landed on and crushed to death.

And maybe her little dog too.

* * *

><p><em>It's Sunday somewhere! It's practically Sunday here. So have this!<em>

_I woke up Monday morning to some wonderful reviews! I ... Honestly I'm on cloud nine at the minute! I'm sad it takes me almost a full week to get a new chapter out but I won't release anything unless I believe it's been polished to the best of my ability._

_This episode was brought to you by "Things that sound like other things: Items that will leave you traumatised. A coroners guide."_

_No Edward in episode 3 = No Edward in chapter 3. Mainly because I wanted Bernie on her own for at least one chapter, away from her crush. I may make that a rule, just to keep things canon for now. Did I mention I'm in love with writing Harvey Bullock? I am. Completely. _

_**Bat-teen28:** Allen does seem to be a bit of a bully, but then he's just trying to wheedle information out of poor Bernie since she seems to be the weakest link!_

_**Nigel Flemming:** Scottish? No. I do try to do my research but I guess I slipped up there. Thank you for the tip, and the offer! Feel absolutely free to point out anything else that I've tripped up over, it's always appreciated!_

_**Guest 123:** Thanks!_

_**WeAreTheStarlight:** Thank you very much! I did want to try something different and what kind of cop show with Homicide Detectives doesn't deal with a morgue? ;) The Riddler is also one of my favourite villains of all time! Probably why I write him so much :P I'm absolutely pleased you feel he's in character and the riddles and anagrams are up to scratch! And I'm incredibly happy that you like Bernie!_

_**Jeffthemagicalpegacorn:** Really well written? You flatter me! I'm absolutely amazed you love my other Batman work! I intend to continue this, to the end of the season and beyond because I'm enjoying Gotham immensely and I hate leaving things half-finished._

_**TheAnnoyingFanGirl:** I've been made! Abort! Abort! Haha yes. Molly Hooper was one of the inspirations for Bernie. I am a massive Sherlock fangirl and Molly is such a loveable character. She's one of my favourites! When I first started dreaming up Bernie, I noticed that many of my characters were strong women and I realised I'd unconsciously fallen into a pattern of writing them as such and that irks me. So Bernie being a cringing, socially-awkward morgue tech is as much a challenge for me as a break from the norm._

**_Badge Nightmare: _**_Thank you! I always love to hear that I've got canon characters right! I also love to hear that people like my characters :) I hope you enjoy the next few as much!_

**_scribblescribblescribble: _**_Shame? What's that? Is it tasty? I can't help it I swear. With each subsequent episode of Gotham, I find myself falling in love with Oswald/Paolo even more. Save me, I'm becoming a Penguin Fangirl! Awkwardness abounds with Bernie, but that's what makes her lovable to me. Oooh no. Edward getting into the files would be bad. Good thing he's terrified of the morgue!_

_And a hello wave to all those lovely, lovely people who followed and faved!_


	4. Arkham - Crispers

_Episode 4 - Arkham/Crispers_

Another callout, another body. Even for Gotham, there seemed to be an epidemic going on but this was slightly different. It was a senator - seriously, who bothered trying to kill them these days? - and on sacred or possible satanic grounds.

The old Arkham Asylum had been closed for fourteen years and it had been a dump back then, it's time abandoned hadn't done it any favours. There was a time the morgue seemed to have been called out here every week and even after it closed, some people returned to it's halls for one final time before they decided they'd had enough with the world. Arkham had broken them and taken them and it was already dead itself. Sometimes, it wasn't even those poor, mentally ill people they were sent to body-bag. At one time or another, the outer buildings had been broken into and used as drug dens and the coroner's van would be sent to pick up their fair share of overdosed drug enthusiasts.

This place breathed death and decay and now they were back for another one.

'Arkham gives me th' willies.' Bernie muttered sullenly. Gordon and Bullock frowned at her hard enough for her to notice. 'It's a form of expression!' She defended, going straight to red under her coat.

'Bernie, you're an oddball.'

'Bullock! Bernie, he doesn't mean that.' Gordon soothed and threw him a look.

'Sure I don't,' Bullock returned. 'So, you want to tell us if Barbecue Man is our missing senator?'

Oh sure, he wanted another favour. 'Ye have nae idea how much trouble th' last freebie cost,' She grumbled. 'Besides, ah'm afraid tha' if ah even touch him, he's gonnae get damaged. Ah hate crispers,' She sniffed. The smell of accelerate and burned flesh on the air.

'Yeah? Well I hate inbred scum who put in overtime and get free passes for murder cases that should be theirs.' Bullock snapped.

'How are you going to get him out?' Gordon asked and the three spent a dismal few seconds staring at the pre-packaged corpse.

'Ah have nae idea.' Bernie replied unhappily. 'but this one looks a'though he's thoroughly cooked,' She noted.

'Thank you for ruining my dinner Bernie, anything else pertinent you feel you should share?'

She tried to block out Bullock's litany of profanity and complaint as she leaned forward into the barrel to get a better look at what lay under the rim. It was a sickening mixture of gasoline and burnt hair that would ride her all the way back to the morgue and survive several showers. Strips of cloth seemed to have survived the bonfire, which was miraculous. Plastic had seeped into his legs, probably all that was left of his wallet and credit cards but it was his shoulder and neck she found most intriguing. 'He's go' puncture marks, ah think.' She hesitated at seeing the irregular marks on the shriveled flesh. She couldn't be sure if they were pre, peri or post mortem but she did know that it was highly unlikely a fire would do that. Far too clean to be the skin splitting, even with Gasoline helping it along and they weren't in the usual places. She'd expect splitting to be in the larger masses which had more muscle. The legs, arms and head.

'Oh great, so this isn't social justice, this is one screwball on a vendetta.'

'You think?' Gordon asked his partner.

'Or a paid hitman. This screams message.' Bullock ran a hand down his face. 'Either way, I shouldn't be the one handling this.' Bullock moved away with Gordon trailing after him and left her to continue taking stock of their new resident. Christine was going to be so pleased. If there was one thing worse than a river bloater, it was a crisper.

She tried to ignore the way his jaw hung open listlessly, pink and black bone poking through the soft flesh. His hands were gnarled, probably through the constriction of muscle when applied to heat and wrapped itself around the bone like leathery tar. Santangelo called it "jerky". it happened to most fire victims, their hands curling into claws but this one...he looked like he was praying.

God she hated crispers.

She turned at the sound of someone behind her and startled at how close Edward was. 'Oh hey Bernie!' He smiled 'You beat me here!' His smile fell and his nose wrinkled at the smell coming from the barrel. He took several hasty steps back to get out of range of the smell.

'Yeah, Ah wouldn't get too close.' She grimaced sympathetically. Her eyes fell on the report in his hands. The headline was _'Office Of The Gotham City Medical Examiner'._

He must have noticed her staring as he glanced down at the file and then smiled, despite the green tinge. 'I got the report. Some interesting wounds, eh?'

She wouldn't know. Stagg had jumped straight on that bandwagon, with it being a senator and all. She was lucky he was letting her scrape up this mess without dictating her every move, especially after he heard Bullock had pumped her for information. Sent her cleaning scalpels and walking evidence for her crime. It really wasn't helping her advance. She wanted and needed to observe-

'You want to see it?' He held out the paper and she reached up for it. For a mere second, their fingers touched and she ended up blushing and stared down at the file to cover her embarrassment.

Her eyes found the typical morgue photos and close-ups of areas of interest. Bruises, cuts, scrapes and marks. Above her, Edward twittered on, regardless of her sudden attack of shyness.

' - and the blade seems to be particularly well made and meticulously maintained. Would you like to guess how I know that? The material used to craft it wasn't your average blade combination of steel. It had it's own, far stronger composite. I know because I found shavings mixed in with a type of lubricant found in whetstones ergo - he sharpened it often which meant it well maintained. Oh and there was-'

He paused when she pulled out a blow-up of a slash to the senator's shoulder and approached the body. She held it, hovered above the unusual cuts to Mr. Crisper and frowned. They'd been warped through the fire but she was positive they were made by the same weapon.

'Bernie?'

She snapped out of it and turned to Edward who had finally stopped listing his brilliant method. 'Yeah, Ed?'

'How is your exam going?' He wondered.

She blinked. 'Ye heard about that? Well...Ah'm hopeful.' and turned back to her corpse. 'Ah'm taking th' full thing in a month.'

'Have you studied?'

She forced down a laugh at his academic proddings. 'Every day noo, Ed.'

'Then I wish you luck.'

It was almost worth going through the hell of the exam to hear that. He turned to follow Bullock and deliver the rest of his report when she glanced up and asked. 'Hey Ed, ye have any idea how ter move a barrel o' human remains?'

'Ah, sorry, Bernie.' He made good his escape and left her with the one conundrum he didn't want to answer.

'Sod.'

* * *

><p><em>My Bullock seems to get sassier with each consecutive chapter. Let's have a cheer for Bullock and his mouth, shall we? I like following episode canon. It helps me settle into Bernie's character. It's also easier than constructing a storyline that diverges from the main timeline because I'm running two stories simultaneously plus I'm binge watching S.H.I.E.L.D. and Doctor Who. Stitcher is a busy beaver! <em>_It's a good time to be a geek. __ A massive shame I don't have any channel that plays The Flash or Arrow. I'm also amazingly surprised that no-one else has tackled the morgue route in Gotham. I suspected that the top two would be mobsters and cops but I believe I'm literally the only one who thought - Let's do something slightly more behind the scenes. How long will it last? I'm not sure. But lets have fun while we wait. _

_And now onto my wonderful reviewers!_

_**Bat-teen28:** So glad you did, Batty!_

_**Jeffthemagicalpegacorn:** Trust me, if I didn't have restraint, I'd update literally the night after the episode! I am of my word. It WILL get an ending. It is an amazing tv show! When I first heard some of the details I hedged because at heart: I'm a stickler for getting things canon - though why for Batman, I'm never sure. There are about fifty different origins for Joker alone! - and it made me reconsider how they were doing it but being four episodes in now, I find myself massively enjoying it!_

_**TheAnnoyingFangirl:** Absolutely, Molly is a cut above the rest. It's also amusing in a horrible, twisted way to watch her attempts to get over him! Lestrade and Anderson are my joint second. Especially Crazy Anderson and all his theories in season 3. I fear we may never know how he did it. I'm glad you liked it and it wasn't dull with it's focus on her!_

_**scribblescribblescribble:** I couldn't say exactly what kind of impact it's going to have on my writing but at least one friend of mine is captaining the ship of Bernie/Oswald. Not sure how I feel about that but eh. He is! He slipped right on into my heart, what a scamp. I'm glad it's fresh! Always glad to hear that! I swear, I literally cringe at the thought of what that woman's neck must look like. Better rounded and realistic is all I could possibly ask for! Ah, you caught that. Should have known. ;) _

_**TSOTB:** Thank you! I do tend to wait a week to get the best possible outcomes on my chapters so do check back every **Sunday**!_

_**WeAreTheStarlight:** Ah, you caught it! Honestly, I got tingles of Wizard of Oz when Cranston landed on that poor woman, I had to take it. It was so - farmhouse meets witch and I had to. I love that you like reading her on her own! I always fear an OC-Centric story can get dull. Haha Bullock is my favourite personality and trust me - I was chuckling as I wrote it down! Thanks! And thank you for the review!_

_**Badge Nightmare:** Overall, I think the owner got the worst. No-one wants a fully grown, muscled corpse landing on you. What a way to go! I heard they were going to put him in. I love Zsasz! I can't wait to write his aftermath! But I live in Britain so I think we're a few episodes behind, I'm afraid. Penguin: I can say definitively she'll meet him when I deem the time right. Mooney: I can't be sure of. It depends on how the episodes go and the chips fall._

_**Tando:** They only ever seem to put thirty seconds of him in an episode and it both annoys me and makes me appreciate it more. I crave more Edward and, I hear, my prayers will soon be answered. As I understand it, it is rather a Marmite thing. Either you love or hate the dialogue changes. I felt that just alluding to the Scottish accent she had would make her character seem flatter, whereas actually writing it with the accent, shortening and length of words would make it easier for me and the readers to see how she spoke. That being said, I do understand that it may be offensive to some or possibly put others off. I suppose I would concede to demand and stop writing her dialogue as such if I had additional complaints but so far, it seems positive. I'm glad you like it and I fully intend to continue. Ah, the FOX website is region locked. I know this because I've attempted to view material on there before and found it doesn't support someone accessing it from my country, which is sad. There are less official ways to view the episodes, I'm sure but I don't want to travel those roads because A) they inevitably come with viruses attached like hidden presents and B) my computer is old and worn and has trouble playing a 5 minute YouTube video. Supporting a 45 minute long episode alone would cause it to commit computer suicide I think. Thank you very much for the constructive criticism, I appreciate each and every one and I hope you continue to enjoy this!_

_A big hello to my watchers new and old!_


	5. Viper - Disaster

_Episode 5 - Viper/Disaster._

She stared at the corpse on the table.

Stared at her clipboard.

Back to the corpse on the table.

It was all angles. The human body did have a vague angular nature anyway thanks to the elbows, knees and hips to name but a few, however this wasn't just angular. This was concertinaed. She would never have believed this if she wasn't _looking_ at it. It wasn't something for the weaker stomach. The deformity was obvious and appetite sappingly appalling.

She shuddered.

Where to even begin? She had to take basic measurement but it's - _his_ - head was a mushroom of globs.

What wasn't attachable - or even identifiable - had been scraped up into an evidence bag that _oozed_ onto the stainless steel.

Where to begin?

'Gawd, he really is boneless,' Christine muttered from over her shoulder as Bernie dithered over what exactly to put on the forms. Papers flew as the tiny morgue tech jumped with a squeal.

'Christine!' She squeaked and bent to scoop up the fallen paperwork. She looked up to see Christine and her morbid curiosity looking up and down the table appreciatively. 'This is nae time to be gawking. The poor lad's deid and ye gawking like he's th' bearded lady!'

'He looks like a safe landed on him,' The other woman muttered.

'Ah think it did,' Bernie replied and flipped to body discovery. 'Ah, no. An ATM.'

'That is not the way to mobile bank.' The young woman quipped.

'CHRISTINE!' She gasped, shocked at her colleague's callous disregard for a dead man. Morgue humour was only ever for the cops, using it to brush over fear and disgust. The people that saw to the untimely dead considered it normal but there were some they found disturbing.

'Hey kid, even in Gotham, this is a strange one.' She muttered and leaned over to get a full look at the broken man. Bernie gave up trying to make her stop and went straight back to her favourite past-time. Fretting.

'How'm ah even meant ter take measurements?' She bemoaned. 'His femur's snapped in six places fe' God's sake!'

'Is that a lot?'

Bernie turned and gave the receptionist a look of utter bemusement. Christ, how did Christine even get this job? It was a basic part of life to know that no, your femur should not be in six pieces, it shouldn't even be in two! 'A wee bit.' She grit and then threw her hands up in despair. 'Oh I give up, this is bloody impossible!'

'God, Bernie you're freaking out worse than usual.' Christine noted and poked at the marbled flesh.

'O'course ah am! Ah'm assisting Doctor Stagg wi' this - Dinnit touch it! We still dinnit ken if it's capable of secondary absorption!'

Christine reached out and wiped it down her back as Bernie squealed and went red. 'Coulda told me earlier _Blushing Bernie._'

'Tha' is not funny, Christine!' She wailed and went a brighter red at her nickname. She looked to be on the verge of tears.

'What's wrong with you, Lynch? Can't take a joke?'

'Ah've got to do this and fast. Stagg's breathin' down mah neck!'

'And the mayor and GCPD are breathing down his.' Christine replied. 'I overheard it, in the waiting room 'kay?' She griped at Bernie's look. 'Something about a wierd-ass drug and Wayne Industries. Are you sure you don't want to do it because your boyfriend's practically foaming at the mouth for the report?'

Bernie coloured. 'Ah'm not rushing through this fer Edward Nygma.'

'Sure you're not.' Christine teased. 'I heard he's well into this Viper thing. I bet he'd look so much better with some muscle and tone, wouldn't he Bernie? I bet-'

'Christine, leave.' Stagg pushed into the autopsy room and immediately dismissed her.

Christine knew enough to do as she was told but mouthed to Bernie on the way out _'Think about it!' _

In her nightmares.

* * *

><p>The next morning, she was lucky she made it into work at all.<p>

The city was in near chaos. Several trains weren't running, every few seconds you could hear the whine of a new siren. News bulletins were something reserved for the outbreak of war, running stories about the insane behemoths of strength wandering the streets, looking for milk, cheese, yoghurt - Every station offering tips on how to react. Stay indoors, do not approach anyone acting violently, call 911 if your life is in imminent danger. Greasy smoke hung in the air as she pushed her way into _hell_. The scenes outside were distressing, but inside it was worse.

'Bernie!' Christine yelled from her besieged reception cubicle.

There was nowhere to move. Gurneys and body bags littered the floor. People were arguing at cross-purposes and ran back and forth across what little floor space that hadn't been taken up by bodies.

It was like the scenes after a disaster. It was that bad in the Gotham Morgue. With the squaring of her shoulders, she began to attempt to get to the frantically waving blonde.

With some use of elbows and small stature, almost losing her glasses twice, Bernie managed to beach herself against the scarred, over varnished wood gulping for air and looked through the glass that separated them. Christine, despite the over-done make-up looked pale and frightened. It was a bad day to wear blue eye shadow, It made her look like a corpse herself.

'Whut's goin' on?' She gasped.

'Some pissant bastard's been handing out that drug like college freebies!' Christine replied hysterically. 'Tweakers are dropping dead left right and centre! We've got no more room! Stagg's ordering them to ship them out to rural morgues but they keep coming!'

She was in full meltdown.

The doors that Bernie had just entered from were pushed open and two techs bearing the morgue's logo on their jumpsuits manhandled another into the room.

'You can't put that there! You can't-! Bernie! Stop them putting that there!'

'Lady, where else are we going to put them?' One demanded. 'There's about twenty more coming from the GCPD.'

'We've got no more room!' Christine shrieked as they dropped it to the floor and Bernie could have sworn she heard more bones cracking as it settled. It sent a shiver down her spine and churned her stomach. They may have been drug addicts but they never deserved this. Not this.

'Christine, whut do we do?!' She begged.

The other woman dithered, flicking between the slew of orders handed out of late and berating the ignorant techs shuttling more bags from their truck when the phone rang. With automatic impulse, she picked up the handset and trilled 'Gotham Municipal Morgue!'

She was silent and then frowned at Bernie with a look that Bernie did not like.

'I've got the perfect person.' Her voice tinkled like glass.

'Christine?' Bernie pleaded. What was she signing her up for? She tried to twist her head to look at the sticky note Christine was scribbling on. It was an address.

Christine ripped it off and leaned forward to paste it onto her glasses with a flourish. 'Thank you for your call!'

Bernie peeled the note from her glasses as Christine slammed the phone down and stared at it. 'Whut's this for?' She mumbled.

'Bullock and Gordon are demanding a techie.' She sniffed. 'And you're the only one not scrambling for body pick-up.'

'How'm ah meant te get there? Et's chaos out there!'

'Carrier pigeon, transit, I don't care!'

Bernie looked at the address and then at the chaos going on further in the building and made her decision. 'Ah'll get a cab!'

And made for the doors again.

* * *

><p>She stared from the hole in the wall where Bullock was purportedly held aloft by the pensioner on the floor with two bullets in his chest. She turned to look down at the corpse, waxy and pale.<p>

They'd shot an old man.

She never - ever - felt Detective Gordon was capable of killing OAPs. He was meant to be by the book, he was meant to be the naive one, the compassionate and he'd shot an old man twice in the back.

'Bernie?' She looked up at Gordon and then back down at the victim rather than look into the eyes of a killer. How could he be so calm? It seemed to be easy, hell it probably was, he used to be in the army after all.

'Two shots to the back.' She touched the ribs and heard the tell-tale spider-like clicking of bones snapping under her digits. 'Signs o' Viper in his system. Judgin' from the blood-loss -' and here she paused to take in the stains that had blossomed across his shirt and puddled on the floor around his body - they were fatal. 'Possibly punctured lung or nicked vein present bu' ah'm happy that he's a justifiable homicide.' More than likely, the Viper had made his already brittle bones weaker. Two pops from a gun would have made mincemeat of his heart and lungs. He would have bled out, bled out alone and afraid.

Gordon nodded. 'Unless we find our suspect, and fast, there'll be more for you to do.' He looked down at her for a moment. 'I'm making you uncomfortable, aren't I?'

'Ye shot an ol' man.' Bernie grunted.

'He was choking Bullock out with a cane.' Gordon protested. 'He would have killed him.'

'Aye, an I bet there's a fair few who wished he had too, bu' th' fact remains, Detective. Ye killed an ol' man.'

'The Viper would have done that anyway Bern!'

She went to open her mouth when Bullock burst back onto scene, a livid purplish mark already visible around his neck from the force of the object against his throat.

'Gordon, come on! We've gotta go! Bernie, you're not Florence fucking Nightingale! Now stop bitching and maybe -_ just maybe_ - we can catch this guy before he hands out more of his wonder drug and kills more people!' He paused and sniffed, his nose wrinkled. 'Are you wearing Chanel?' He accused Bernie.

She felt her face flame. 'Ah can wear perfume te work!'

He looked at her as though she was a rare kind of crazy he had yet to have seen during his time on the force. The thought of Bernie being or having any kind of opinion beyond the stumbling, stuttering one seemed alien for him to consider. Eventually, he shook the thoughts from his head. 'I don't have time for this, come on kid!'

Gordon looked back at Bernie and then down at the corpse with something approaching remorse before he stood and chased after Bullock.

Yet again, left with the body. This was becoming a habit.

* * *

><p><em>I'm sorry, but did anyone else cringe when Benny the busker tried and failed to lift that ATM? Concertinaed would be a good description. I swear to god, this episode was practically made for me. Bone crushingly gory and people getting stuff dropped on! I was INSANELY tempted to make another Wizard of Oz reference but I held firm! I'm also terribly sorry about the mish-mash of jumping, I couldn't decide which part of the episode to do, so I did my favourites!<em>

_I won't say this is my best work, I;m just going to leave this and walk away. _

_I've also come to a decision. I do have a storyline for our dear Bernice but I'm having way too much fun following the episodes with this thing so, when I feel comfortable -or have time - I will begin something new for that._

_Also: Spirit of the Goat is on tomorrow! I've heard so many things about this episode ranging from the brilliance to the absolute madness and the assurance I'll have fun with it but no-one will actually give me any spoilers! I'm starting to wonder if it lives up to the hype - though I've been assured it most certainly does. So expect a little piece next week on what I think of it, for better or worse!_

_Anyway, on to our reviews!_

_**Bat-teen28:** Bernie is indeed a smart cookie! Maybe too smart for her own good xD You have a point. Crispy on the outside, gooey on the inside. Ew. Here's your more! ;)_

_**TheAnnoyingFangirl:** Thank you! Some do tend to focus almost exclusively on the couple and fail to remember the world outside and I do try to avoid that!_

_**JadeW:** I'm glad you do! I love writing her accent and I'm glad the extra work adds to her character!_

_And a quick salute to all the watchers and favouriters! _


	6. Spirit of the Goat - Deja Vu

_Episode 6 - Spirit of the Goat/Deja vu_

She was blonde, tall, thin. Everyone was so thin these days they looked like a walking anatomy lesson. They said she'd been found on one of Gotham's historic bridges.

They say The Spirit of the Goat killer was back.

Bernie hadn't been with the morgue during the initial investigation. It had taken place over ten years ago. Even Doctor Stagg had not be on that long. Sadly, pathologists, especially Medical Examiners, didn't last that long. They were like politicians. People with a grudge against the city tended to make exception to people in power, or just poking around. Bernie had signed on roughly five years ago and the case was a legend even five years on.

She'd asked to assist Santangelo during the autopsy but had been told that her assistance was not required.

She watched as the pathologist went through the standards. Body condition, body dress, location it was found - all could affect the outcome of the autopsy. He went into notable alterations - bruises, scrapes, she could map each and every move he made. She watched as he switched to manner of death and began his search. Eyes, nose, throat. She watched as he scribbled something onto a clipboard and then became engrossed in something Bullock was saying.

She could read the body language through the small window. Bullock was tense. Edgy. He was practically the only on that was. He directed him to check somewhere at the back of the skull. Santangelo was skeptical but paused when he noticed something and Bernie would have given anything, _anything_ to be there to see the object he pulled out.

It seemed to confirm something to Bullock, his stance became much more hostile. Whatever it had been, it was bad news. He said something harsh to Gordon as Santangelo dropped the object into a bag.

He slammed out of the autopsy room and down the corridor without noticing her, or even looking back. Gordon was out next and he did see her. He shot her an apologetic look but she still wasn't comfortable with him after the incident with the Viper.

Ed was the last one out, muttering about something being 'Fascinating.'

'Whut happened?' She asked and hurried to catch up to his long strides. He'd just been in the morgue, present during an autopsy. She half-expected him to be green and looking for a bin. 'Where're ye goin'?'

'Records room!' He chirped.

'Not gonnae find somethin' fe' an upset stomach, are ye?' It was like poking a bruise. It felt wrong, but it gave her some sort of satisfaction to bring it up.

'What? Oh. Did you know that the fear of something diminishes with more knowledge?' He smiled.

'Ye - ye actually researched-' She deflated.

'It's actually rather fascinating, I can understand why you enjoy it.' He returned. 'Perhaps if I can educate Ms Kringle on a better filing system-'

Oh not this again. 'Ed-' She tried.

It became obvious to her fairly quickly that Ed had a massive crush on Kristin Kringle. Bernie had every right to dislike her, but Kristin was actually rather nice. It helped that she seemed rather exacerbated by Edward's attempts to get her attention romantically. It was completely one sided, much like her own. Of late, Edward had been thinking about "helping" her re-arrange the records room to a more...Organic structure. Bernie knew enough of Ms Kringle to know that it was the exact _opposite_ of what he should do - but every time she tried to help him, he disregarded her advice.

'Ed, ah think ye' going about this all wrong,' She mumbled and blushed.

'Wrong? Wrong? Ms Kringle is wrong. Do you think she'd see sense with an accompanying diagram?' He asked.

She gave up. 'Ah dunno Ed,' She sighed. 'Perhaps ye' should try explainin' it better? Ah barely get it maeself.'

Goddamn her and her soft heart. She couldn't tell him that she was absolutely in love with him but she could give him relationship advice to woo other women.

Maybe it was time to invest in a psychologist?

Or a cat. Her step-father always said she'd end up one of those crazy cat ladies who treat their pets like children.

She really did need to pay her step-father a visit.

He'd practically raised her after her mother died. But if you've got to go, go with an aneurysm. Painless. She'd been studying to be a doctor then, her interest was in saving people and her mother was so, so proud. But then - here one moment, gone the next and she found she had no stomach for being the doctor, being the hero. She changed vocations - quite late on in her studies, medical school was a washout but she felt this_ important._

Funny, she hadn't thought about the past in so long. Curious it would resurface now.

'Anyway - I'm going to go and see what I can find on this Spirit of the Goat,' Ed chuckled. 'And I can explain my process to Ms Kringle again,'

'Guid luck,' She mumbled under her breath as he left, still brooding on the past.

She shook her head and went back to cataloging the sheer mountain of homeless Viper corpses that still pervaded the morgue. They'd managed to get rid of a good many, shipping them off to neighboring cities to be examined or they had been identified, their relatives informed - but the cold storage and long storage rooms still held a slew of people in need of identifying, in need of closure. Perhaps some never would be. It happened more often than thought.

Just like the kids before them, the Mayor had pledged to clean up Gotham's homeless problem. It was an election year coming up and there had been an outcry bigger than any other over the amount of people who had taken the drug but once again - the homeless and destitute were targeted. It was almost like a conspiracy.

She tapped her outrageously tartan pen against her clipboard.

Let's face it, she would rather be working the serial killer case. Gotham had their serial killers, plenty of them. But never one so...Ritualized. The candles, the flowers, the dress...

She paused as Doctor Santangelo wheeled the patient out of the doors and gave her a curt nod.

This city was certainly sick. And getting sicker by the day.

* * *

><p><em>AN:Look at that! A little bit of Bernie's past. I've been trying to wheedle it into there for so long now. It explains why she's in the morgue at least._

_Well, Spirit of the Goat is over and done with. My friends were not kidding. So much fun. So much. Alright, lets start with the bodies - because this is a morgue fic. Oh Jesus the presentation was beautiful. The white dress, the dripping candles, the penny in the base of the skull was brilliant. It was all like a beautifully wrapped present for the GCPD. Let me tell you - I love a good serial killer ritual. Bullock - oh Bullock. He's overtaken Edward and Oswald here as literally my favourite character. The energy and anguish this episode put him through - and the quips just keep getting better. I almost felt bad for him when he had the snot beaten out of him first at the Opera and then while confronting the psychologist but the dynamic duo of cynicism comes through! The reveal of the actual perpetrator was elegant, but predictable and a nice twist to the story, but the twists weren't done there. Cobblepot's alive! Gordon's un-arrested! Montoya's face! I really did throw my hands up in the air and cheered. It was brilliant. I'll also say: I want Edward's mug. I want one. Why has no-one started selling one yet? When I first heard of Kristin Kringle, I was rather dubious because - Ed has a crush? I thought I'd hate her but darn it all - her writing is too good to hate. I love her. And subsequently - Bernie does too. Which makes this a rather awkward, open-ended love triangle and that's pretty sad._

_For a while now, before Morgue Files started anyway - I've been writing another piece on Edward on the Arkham Asylum boards, and that has just recently come to an end. I thought: Fantastic! Brilliant! Now I can devote my full time to Morgue Files! ...No. That didn't happen. I was assaulted and battered by my absolute adoration of Harvey Bullock. So much so that I needed to express it and I thought - I'll just do a Christmas theme! Bullock's your stereotypical Grinch anyway._

_...You feed a plot bunny and it multiplies. I learned this._

_I guess what I'm trying to say here is - You may have noticed something with our beloved detective in it of late. And I need psychiatric help. _

_Reviews! I love reviews!_

_**scribblescribblescribble:** Haha just this time you can. ;) I love Bullock - he's the easiest one to write for me! Maybe it's because we have the same biting cynicism. Oh-ho. Hush and Zsasz? Gimme gimme gimme! _

_I love the gross details. I read and watch far too much murder and CSI shows for my own good. The things you pick up from them! Hey - I have an exceptionally strong stomach! I've been known to eat and watch surgery being performed simultaneously. CSI: Gotham. I like that! It would get better ratings than CSI: Miami that's for sure and I prefer Bullock over Caine any day! Vics may pack enough of a wallop to cover every kind of sin imaginable but I agree, it isn't very feminine. ;)_

_**TheAnnoyingFangirl:** I love Bullock! I'm sure you'll be pleased at my recent announcement! A whole fic dedicated to my favourite bent cop. I love hearing that! You're not the only one who loves the way those two interact, it's a shame Bernie is in love with Ed, Bullock would make a decent second target! _

_**Bat-teen28:** It looked horrific alright! I stand by the phrase concertinaed. Goat rocked!_

_**JadeW:** Thank you! I loved the Goat ep. My favourite by far! _


	7. Penguins Umbrella - Regrets

_Episode 7 - Penguin's Umbrella/Regrets_

The morgue was eerily quiet and empty. Not even Christine on duty at reception.

It never felt more like a graveyard.

'Where is everyone?' Gordon asked.

'Probably don't want to come back to their jobs.' Bullock replied. 'Don't want to end up on a slab, being cut into thin slices, piece by piece,' He grumbled. 'And that's before they even get here.' He added darkly.

'Yer alive!'

A small, black haired mass in a lab-coat appeared out of nowhere and latched onto Gordon's waist the second they pushed through the door. 'Bernie, Bernie!' Gordon huffed as she crushed him in a hug that only made it around his chest by sheer chance. She was practically suffocating him. He looked as white as a sheet and if she squeezed just a little more - she may have a new corpse to carve.

'Tha' las' words ah coulda said te ye were "Ye killed an old man" an' then ye do this?!' She wailed. 'Holding a mob boss by gunpoint?! Yer such a numptie!'

'It wasn't quite-' He wheezed and tried to wriggle free of Bernie, but she only held on tighter.

He could have died a stupid, stupid hero and she would have to carve his liver. The things that medical examiners fear most was finding someone they know on their table. With cops, it seemed almost a certainty that she would eventually see Gordon and Bullock on the table, but she hadn't wanted it to be so soon.

Guilt played a part. She'd still been mad and uncomfortable with him when he'd gone out and held Carmine Falcone by gunpoint and at that moment she'd realized that whatever James Gordon had done or would do - she'd never stop being his friend.

Bullock on the other hand...

'Hey! I helped!' Bullock interjected. 'Where's my praise?'

Was a giant ass.

'You brought a prostitute to my apartment!' Gordon accused, flabbergasted.

'She wasn't a prostitute!' Bullock defended. 'She was a very nice, very negotiable woman!'

'She was fat and drunk!' Gordon grunted. 'And you sent her off in my apartment!'

'He always wus a bit o' a chubby chaser.' Bernie replied from his midriff.

'Bernie,' Gordon grunted. 'You can let go now,'

'Buh-'

'Bernie you're pulling on my bullet wound.' He grimaced which was exactly the sort of thing you shouldn't say to a highly strung Scotswoman. She immediately let go and shrieked

'Oh mah gawd ye got_ shot_?!'

He lifted his shirt to show her the neatly bandaged, but still stained padding.

'Who patched ye up?'

'A vet at the university-' He huffed and half-bent as fire raced his stomach. Shre twittered around him like a short, bushy sparrow.

'A vet? A _vet_?! ah coulda done better tha' a_ vet_!' She scorned. 'Why didnae ye come ter me?!' She wailed.

'It was Montoya and Allen's call, Bernie. Not mine.' He pleaded at the fiery gaze. 'I wasn't exactly conscious and i'm pretty sure I owe them new seats.'

'So who gave ye the black eye?' She asked.

Bullock shifted uncomfortably.

'It doesn't matter.' Gordon replied diplomatically. The last thing they wanted was Bernie taking a scalpel to Mr self-preservation himself. 'What matters is why we're here.'

The room took on a more somber tone as he brought them back to the real reason that the two detectives were in the county morgue when one was highly hungover and the other was better suited to resting his aching bullet-wound.

'She's ready.' Bernie nodded. 'Up the hall.'

Their footsteps were overly loud as they made their way into autopsy suite three.

All three stared down at the sheet that covered the body on the gurney.

'Are ye sure ye want to be here?' Bernie asked softly. 'Ye really look awfu'.'

'She saved my life and paid with hers,' Gordon returned. 'I'm going to be here.'

She nodded. 'Ah see. Alreet. Cannit say I didn't give ye chance to-' She paused and looked around. 'Where's Bullock got te?' Gordon followed her gaze and also noticed a distinct lack of bearded, cynical partner.

'I think he had a differing opinion on wanting to be here.' Gordon grimaced.

'Whut a bastard. He's probably sleepin' in the staff lounge again.' She glowered.

'He's in the building, I can't ask for more. And he did agree to come with me to arrest Falcone.'

'He wus _drunk_. Anythin's a guid idea ter him when he's drunk.' She carefully arranged her tray of tools, checking the scalpel blades and the Costotome to cut the ribs free.

'Are you going to get into trouble for this autopsy, Bernie?' Gordon asked softly. 'Technically this is a homicide and you're not even qualified.'

For a minute, she failed to register his question but then shook herself. 'At least she'll get one.'

'What? What do you mean, Bernie?' He frowned.

'Hmm? Och did ah say tha' out loud? Me an' mah fat gob. Dinnit worry about it.' She smiled.

'Bernie,' He warned. 'Are you holding out on me?'

'Ah'll tell yer all about et when yez all better.' Her accent became thicker as Gordon scrutinized her.

'You promise?'

'Aye, Scots honour.'

'I thought it was meant to be scouts honour,' He muttered vaguely.

'Well, Scots are more trustworthy.' She picked up a handle and opened a pack of new blades, easing one into the waiting slot. 'So, shall we begin?'

* * *

><p><em>I'm not going to lie - I'm not sorry about this. I'm not sorry at all. Bullock's a chubby chaser! That just...Oh god it killed me. It honestly killed me. Zsasz! I'm not sure if I like the fact Victor Zsasz is using guns to kill people or not but the way he killed that poor patrolwoman - Yeesh. Creepy!<em>

_Overall my comments would be: The Sh*t has hit the fan! [gleeful squeals]_

_I'm late posting this, I know. Stitcher's been ravaged by a sickness bug flying around and only got to watch Gotham a few days ago but nothing helps a raging temperature like laughing yourself into a coughing fit at the sheer absurdity of Bullock's reactions._

_Numptie means idiot. Duh. _

_Review time! I love reviews!_

_**LadyMaluHolmes:** Updated! Hopefully better than the last!_

_**ScaryScarecrows:** If all else fails, I'll kludge it myself. All I need is a plain white mug and some green paint._

_**Bat-Teen28:** No it isn't nice! But you're right, mistletoe will be everywhere!_

_**TheAnnoyingFangirl:** I can see why it is! It's absolutely my favourite by far! I'm very glad to hear that! Grinch seems to have taken on a life of it's own - Cursed plot bunnies - but I may do a little one-shot closer to Christmas._

_**JadeW:** Bernie's past is a lot less interesting than her present, but I'm glad you liked the snippet! Everyone I've spoken to has said the exact same thing. They thought they would hate her but actually they found her introduction to be hilarious and cute and fell in love with her. Darn it! _

_And a wave to my watchers/favouriters!_


	8. The Mask - Playing Detective

_The Mask/Playing detective_

Ever since Edward Nygma decided to face his fears, he's been in and out of the GCPD Morgue on a regular basis, not just on active cases, but probing into older cases too. Since facing his fear - and mastering it - Edward had come to be as obsessive - or possibly even more - about autopsy practice and Bernie had to cover for him on more than one occasion but she knew she couldn't protect him forever.

She didn't expect the end of it to come so soon however.

She was on the other end of the building slicing a brain into slides - Yes. That can happen. Especially if there was an anomaly that needed more in depth viewing at a later date - it was like taking a biopsy from a suspicious tumour, however this tumour was the whole damn brain and heads usually weighed the same as a medium roaster chicken.

If she could hear it from the other end of the building, than the entire building could also presumably hear it. She immediately entered fret mode as she de-gloved, and yanked the protective mask off her freckled face.

Oh god, what had he done? Stagg sounded even more pissed than the time he'd caught _her_ overstepping her bounds. By the time she'd arrived at the door, it had seemingly blown over without confrontation. She caught the tail end of Edward leaving as Stagg raged on.

'Ed?' She called, seeing him storm out of the room muttering something about _ignoramus. _She'd be worried for him, if Stagg wasn't muttering to himself about Forensic Technicians and getting above their stations.

'It's bad enough that _you_ Bernie think you're qualified to tell me how to do this job but I'm drawing the line at Nygma! I mean - look at all this!' Stagg raged. 'Calipers, documents, upsetting my staff no end - He's been playing with the goddamn microphone! Bernice I'm drawing the line!'

He'd actually tried to do the autopsy himself? Ah _lawd_.

'Yessir.' She squeaked with nothing else seemingly appropriate. She wanted to escape from here as fast as possible and track Edward down to see if he was alright, but Stagg was in rage mode and demanding a captive audience.

'Don't ever allow him in here again! Are we clear?!'

'He's a forensic-' She tried, only for her protests to be drowned out.

_'Are we clear?!'_

'Yes Doctor Stagg...' She sighed.

'I don't need hamfisted pseudo-detectives playing with the bodies! I'm frankly flabbergasted that man is even allowed in here at all!'

She groaned.

Wanted to go back to her nice quiet brain slicing but she knew she would chase after Edward without even thinking about it. He had looked pretty damn upset. Curse her and her heart.

* * *

><p>She found him at his desk, brooding over files. 'Hey Mister Enigma.' She tried for lighthearted - she really did, but it came out strained and high. He turned to look at her and then scowled down at his papers.<p>

'Hello Bernie.'

'Ye made quite th' impression at the morgue,' She grimaced. 'Stagg wus greetin' onnabout desecration of remains an' impersonatin' a medical professional when ah left.'

He sank further down in his deskchair and she realized that was really the wrong thing to say. Damn she was bad at consoling people. 'Ah stuck around to get the report. Want ter hear it?' She struck out hopefully.

'What did he make note of?' Edward muttered into his arms.

'Some sort o' ink on the suit-'

His head shot back up. 'Peon! That's Toner. If he'd bothered to even-'

'Ah know, ah know.' She placated in the face of his wrath.

'I should complain to the medical council-'

'Ed, I'm not meant ter be givin' ye this kinda detail,' She wailed. 'Dinnit drop me in the cacky here-'

He paused and then slumped back down. 'Of course. My apologies Bernie. Some of us are clearly better investigators than others.' He grumbled.

'Tha's yer job, Ed.' She sighed, thankful he'd calmed down. She was used to Stagg throwing a wobbler but Ed was a canny terror himself when he got riled.

'Death investigation is not my job. It's meant to be Stagg's job. The man couldn't find a nut allergy in a peanut factory-' He snorted.

'Ed!' She wailed. 'Ye not helpin' yerself.'

'It's true!' He whined and sighed, 'But I see your point. How can you work for such a dictator?'

'Ah take it day by day. Tell ye wha', Why dinnit yer come fer coffee wi' me?' She blushed a deep red.

'No thank you Bernie.' He brooded and completely missed the look of hurt on her face as it went an even more impressive shade of embarrassment. 'I think I'll just work on some puzzles.'

'Ah...alreet, ah'll... ah'll...see you later...' She retreated rather clumsily and threw him a look as she walked through the throng in the corridors. Still with his head in his hands, staring at his mug.

She wished she could make it better but she'd need a_ Time-Turner_ and if she could go back in time, then maybe she'd stop off on her way back to the present to totally retract that offer of coffee.

Save herself a whole host of embarrassment and self-hatred.

* * *

><p><em>AN: __Greet: To wail, whine or complain like a baby or child. I love the Scottish and their language._

_On time! Barely. Mostly Edward and Bernie angst, because Edward's interactions in this episode were the most interesting they've been so far. Speaking of the episode: __OOH Edward's **face**! During that whole confrontation! Man's got demons but then, that's why we love him. The Mask was an almost predictable episode - it was nice to see Bullock being the paragon for a change, making everyone and Alvarez feel like the cowards they are for abandoning poor Jim. He didn't need them, but it was a nice token gesture! Man kicked ass and the haymaker at the end was...inspirational._

_Gah. I'm such a Gordon and Bullock fangirl. Mainly Bullock. Pretty much all Bullock...Sorry Gordo. _

_Review time!_

_**Bat-teen28:** I think we can all agree that Bullock likes a certain kind of woman. ;)_

_**ScaryScarecrows:** As did I. I have no idea how he explained it, but it would be hilarious. I never liked Barbara..._

_**JadeW:** Bernie is a Scot. The Scottish love everyone! (except those who enacted prohibition, those people are not favoured) That is literally the first thing I arrived at when I saw Bullock and his friend and that thought alone was almost as titillating as the scene itself._

_And a salute to the silent majority watching or favouriting this!_


	9. Harvey Dent - Smoking Hole

_Harvey Dent/Smoking Hole_

Bombs. What made bombs such an attractive option? She'd seen one or two bomb scenes in her time. She'd been the one to examine what was left of the two janitors two years ago, and the security guards just a day or two previously. Each and every scene left her the same way. Feeling chilled to the core that such a tiny thing could create such huge messes. Though, she really shouldn't be. She knew how viruses and bacteria could assault the body and overwhelm the white blood cells.

What made bombs such an attractive option? They were more often than not likely to blow up on you as well as the intended target. Bombs cared little for who and why, they would go off on anyone, at any time.

At least, that was her theory.

This one had taken a half-dozen men with it, as well as their vehicle. It still occasionally belched smoke as the metal around it cooled. _Ugh._ The smell of gasoline, charred flesh and Vicks Vaporub. It was a pungent smell that you never really got used to.

She gently rolled someone's leg. During the blast, it had been stripped of cover (and everything else from the ankle below and the knee above. It was just the calf), tattooed on one side by what looked like a diamond and lion, matted with blood and truncated at the bottom before the tattoo ended. The ends of the tibula and fibula were not jagged, despite the impact. Oh they were splintered, but not shattered, which indicated a living person but that was all just a formality. There was no question they were alive when the bomb went off. People also mistakenly believed that all bone was automatically white, but living bone - fresh bone - was pink and highly elasticated. As the vital nutrients and minerals hemorrhage from the corpse, the bones become brittle and easier to shatter. The signs between splintering and shattering can sometimes be difficult to find - but they were there.

These poor men did not have much chance of survival. The bomb - and subsequent fire - did add to the complicating factors but she could already tell what the autopsy report would say.

"Due to the presence of an explosive agent in the vicinity of a highly flammable substance, it is likely that the resulting explosion encompassed the subject, who had no physical abnormality that would effect lifespan and was torn into chunks hardly bigger than your average lamb roast in the pursuit of criminal activity."

Well, something like that. Something a little more professional than _"Chunks hardly bigger than a lamb roast"._

Singed and burned dollars still occasionally floated or skittered past, driven by the wind as Gordon approached. 'Bernie, you have a minute?'

Half expecting what was coming, she nodded and pulled away from the calf and towards the burnt out shell being crawled over by technicians. She degloved and pulled down the vapo-rub mask. Her nose burned from contact with the decongestant and out of habit, she sniffled heavily. 'Is this about tha' thing we were talking about?'

'Bernie, are you in trouble?' He asked seriously.

'Ah dunno.' She shrugged quietly.

'Is your life in danger?' He questioned.

'Ah don't know.' She repeated and he sighed.

'What do you know, Bernie? You were pretty rattled.'

'Aye, ye'd been shot!' She hissed but dropped her tone as pink blossomed across her cheeks. She looked left, then right before she dragged him down to her level. 'Someone's playin' silly buggers.'

He frowned at her. 'Silly? How so?'

'People've been disappearin' fra' the morgue. Deid people, ye ken?' She whispered desperately. A look of understanding blossomed.

'Bernie, I can't understand you when you-'

Was he...Was he using his soothing voice on her? What a tattie. She wasn't mentally disturbed, damn it! Though...It may have sounded like it, 'Someone's been changing the reports too. An' bodies with no ID in the morgue coolers tha' vanish after a few hours.' She cut him off.

'Bernie,' He sighed. 'John and Jane Doe's come in all the ti-'

'Yer not listenin' ter me! This is why I dinnit like to talk about et!' She wailed desperately. 'It's more than just some unknown sod. These people dinnit look like gutter trash - they look like medical experiments gone wrong!'

'Like a chop-shop doctor?' He frowned.

'Yes! Finally!'

'Why haven't you gone to Stagg about this?' She glanced around hesitantly and he put it together. 'You suspect him, don't you?'

'Ah went ter him first, but since I've brought et up he's done nothing. Dunno who ter trust, an' yer in the cack anyway...' She looked up at him with two pleading blue eyes.

He sighed. 'Alright, I'll look into it.'

She smiled, relieved that now she was sharing the burden, it didn't seem quite so big. 'Thank you, detective.'

'Hey partner!' Bullock called out which made both of them jump. 'What're you doing, taking a leak?!'

At a crime scene? Bullock. Honestly it's no wonder he's never made employee of the month. It's a slight wonder about why he's proud of that fact...

'We'll talk later, but I will look into this Bernie.' Gordon promised.

She nodded and watched him walk away. She looked down and heaved a sigh when she spotted something pink and red poking out from under a ravaged door. It had the bottom half of a lion and what looked like a charred diamond.

'Hey, the foot!'

Now if only she could find the rest of him.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Guess who caught the flu? This chump! Guess who feels like dying? Me! Guess who hates everything about this chapter? ALSO ME. But sick Stitcher is lazy Stitcher. *sniffles*_

_Alright! Harvey Dent. I didn't honestly know what to think of this episode. The whole thing, from the cops angle certainly, felt more like filler. Maybe it was the way it kept jumping, maybe it was the fact we were never with anyone long enough to get comfortable. The real action was all about Mooney's quest to fleece Falcone and that was devoted a good portion of the plot that could have been used elsewhere. I was excited and partially let down by Harvey Dent's portrayal. Not least because the only glimpse into "Big Bad Harv" we got was some threats and crazy-eyes. More a tokn nod to the fact that eventually, he will become Two-Face but I'll peg money that we'll see him again._

_Reviews!_

_**Bat-teen28:** I also got that feeling! They handled it very well! Compared to...Some characters. He should of! Bernie had been screwing her courage up for a while to say that! No. No they really won't get better for her! :P_

_**LadyMaluHolmes:** I am sorry that it's a little difficult to read, I'll try to cut back on the accent. Gordon has his adorable moments, absolutely! I never expected to like the detectives as much as I have, I always root for the bad guy! But they've won their place. :)_


	10. Lovecraft - Uncertainty

_Lovecraft/Uncertainty._

Male, Caucasian, white. Personal effects included 1 x Wallet: Approximately fifty dollars; Gold card; assorted credit cards; Drivers licence bearing name of Richard Lovecraft; six receipts and one magnum condom. Pricey Rolex watch, diamond studded cufflinks, Monogrammed handkerchief in left pocket.

The mortal remains of a man who was beyond the comfort of a thousand dollar watch and the ego boost of a condom geared towards the "Larger lad". They all needed to be cataloged for the grieving widow to pick up in her brand new Rolls Royce along with the body, which was due to be formally handed over to the funeral home for internment.

She'd been checking the effects the deceased had come in with when Doctor Stagg appeared.

'Ms Lynch, a word in my office if you please.' He instructed.

'Sir I'm cataloging personal effects for forensics-' She bemoaned but he cut her off.

'I don't want to hear it, Bernice. My office. Now.'

Aware that she'd done something to upset the head medical examiner further but unsure of what, she laid down her clipboard and pen and followed him out into the corridor. He was already making towards his office and she had to scurry with her little legs to keep up.

By the time she arrived at the office of Medical Examiner - despite her scurrying skips to keep up - Stagg had already settled himself behind his desk.

The battered wooden desk did little to ease his appearance. Balding, bearded, ruddy and slightly paunched - the man looked more like a stressed middle-manager than the head of what some cops referred to as _"Slice 'em and dice 'em Central"_. He was one of those bosses who advocated everyone being comfortable in their role and abhorred the thought of non-certified technicians - or forensics investigators for that matter - playing mortician.

'It has come to my attention that you've asked Detective Gordon to look into the matter you raised with me last month.' He steepled his fingers and reminded her of Mr Burns from _The Simpsons_ as he did. Would that make her Smithers? Or would that be more Christine's forte? 'I am appalled that you would feel you had to take this matter outside the department. These allegations are serious, Ms Lynch and could have lasting detrimental effects on our department if they were leaked.'

'Am ah being fired?' She asked hollowly.

'Fired? No. At least, not yet. This is a formal discipline procedure and nothing more if you drop the matter now. As I understand it, I gave you a verbal warning not too long ago. That is no longer an option. This will be written up and a copy will be sent to your home address.' her cheeks flushing red at the embarrassment of being formally reprimanded. 'Rest assured the matter of Detective Gordon's involvement with this has already been dealt with.'

'dealt with?' She echoed unsure of what his point was.

'James Gordon was reassigned to work at Arkham Asylum for the criminally insane.' Stagg sneered. 'Some of us were lobbying for his resignation of course, after what happened to Lovecraft.'

Stagg was probably one of them. Gordon had been reassigned? She couldn't believe it. Gordon was one of those men who you could see only leaving the department after the judicious use of a crowbar.

'While we are addressing this issue,' He went on and sat back heavily in his wingback, 'There is no evidence of any practice of storing bodies - or missing bodies at all in this institution. In fact - we seem to have some that have been missed during our initial dealings with the Viper epidemic. I trust that you will be dealing with them? And the increasing workload should drive all paranoia about conspiracies and missing people from your mind.'

He was throwing work at her, hoping she would drop this? Absurd! However, she was already on a formal caution. She couldn't very well help this institution if she'd been sacked, not to mention: How would she pay for her apartment?

She nodded her reluctant understanding and Stagg dismissed her.

Something was definitely going on. Why else would simply talking to Gordon get her a write up and a hefty caseload?

She arrived back at her office to find that something wasn't quite right. Someone had been in here. The tray of items that she'd been cataloging seemed to have been moved and then replaced not quite the same way.

Had someone been in her office?

Access to this building was restricted, therefore she saw no point in locking doors this deep in the building but why would someone go through his effects? Were they looking for something?

* * *

><p><em>Hey-ho everybody! I'm later than usual but it's Christmas so I'll go ahead and forgive myself! Everybody planning on having a good holiday? Just remember - don't accept cannoli, boiled sweets, candy canes or presents from either a short, limping man who talks funny. <em>

_On the subject of the Lovecraft episode - Two words: Alfred. Badass. Seriously, he plays the game better than Bullock!_

_I'm also going to go ahead and take some holiday time. See you guys...Probably the **tenth of January!**_

_Review time!_

_**ScaryScarecrows:** I think missing bodies would be the tamest thing Gotham could throw out! And thank you. I am better now! Tea fixes everything._

_**Bat-teen28:** It is the messiest way to go, certainly! And the loudest. Bernie is indeed epic! _


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